


Sometimes I Run.

by Gina Callen (CALLEN37)



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Gen, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5375099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CALLEN37/pseuds/Gina%20Callen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callen and Hetty discuss their rift before the Christmas Break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes I Run.

_**Sometimes I Run.** _

Callen watched with a contented sigh as Kensi, smiling, walked out of the bullpen with Deeks at her side.

Word had come through this morning, that although he had been released from custody a few weeks before, he was now finally cleared of the murder charges that LAPD Internal Affairs had brought against him.

Finally, the couple could spend Christmas together, with their mothers, just like they had planned.

Sam grabbed his bag to go and looked up at Callen, "My place, Christmas Eve?" he asked.

Callen nodded, "Wouldn't miss it." he smiled, as Sam left for his own vacation with his family.

Staying behind for a few more hours, Callen completed the paperwork he had to do and, watching as Eric and Nell left for their Christmas vacation, he finally switched off his laptop.

* * *

He sat back for a moment, enjoying the quiet, as the last of the support staff handed over operations to the main D.C. office for the holidays and everything wound down.

He picked up a notebook and started writing in it.

It had been a habit for a while now, when everyone had left. He hid the notebook in his bag, never bringing it out when others were around. He knew they'd get the wrong idea.

Deeks and Kensi would probably jump to the conclusion that it was a diary, or journal of some sorts. Which to be honest wouldn't be too far wrong. Sam would think it was another secret that he was keeping. That would be true too. Hetty….Hetty would read it somehow, and that would be disastrous.

Because, despite what he thought, all of them would be right on the money. It was, kind of, a journal.

He had started keeping it since that day.

The day he had lost faith in his saviour, the one adult in his life he had trusted. The day  _she_  had fallen.

Apart from that one night, when he, like a chastised child had gone to her for forgiveness. Trying to fix, what in his mind,  _she_  had broken by tasering him. He had not talked to her about it again.

She had pushed him aside.

He didn't take rejection lightly. He had had far too much of it. He didn't whine or complain, silently he accepted it, wrapping it in a bandage and protecting it inside his heart.

She had taught him to trust, she had promised him she would never reject him. In his quest to find another who was dear to him, she had broken that promise.

This was what was in his notebook.

A blow by blow account of what he had done in his quest to find Arkady Kolcheck. How he had skirted, but not broken, any of her rules. He had lost all hope of finding out what his name was, well...not all hope. He still hoped that Arkady knew someone, who had known his father better than the old Russian had. Maybe that someone would know of the son of Nikita Reznikov, or Constantine Chernoff. Maybe, that someone would have a name and then he would have a name.

She knew how important this was. She hid so much from him. Oh, she would promise it was for his own good, or because she felt guilty. He had been grateful, although devastated, to find out from her that not only was he the last of the Callens, but also that his father had died less than ten years ago.

Sitting at that grave. Sam, forever the dutiful friend, watching his back. Callen had vowed to find out as much as he could. To learn his name. To find his own kind of peace. He had hoped that she, the one who had saved him from going down a bad road and had given him a light to follow. She, would take the journey with him.

He hadn't wanted to involve the agency. He hadn't wanted her hurt.

Instead, they had chased him.

She had hurt him, she had broken her promise and had fallen off the pedestal he had put her on.

Despite outward appearances that nothing had changed, fundamentally it had. Of course he knew, because he was the master of disguise.

He now knew she was keeping secrets from him. He didn't care about the secrets she kept that were of national importance.

They didn't matter.

But she had a file on him.

She knew, most likely, the same things that Eugene Keelson had found out about him. The things that would bring him peace and closure in his life. But still she dangled them, like a carrot to a starving donkey; and like that donkey, he still followed, hungrily. But, much more wiser now.

That's what was in the book. Notes on sightings of Arkady. Notes on her, where she had been out of work. What she was doing. If she went to a meeting and it was about government secrets. It didn't go in the book. He had taken an oath to keep those secrets and even if he wasn't supposed to know, his word meant everything. He wouldn't divulge those.

But occasionally, he would come up in those conversations that Hetty was keeping to herself. Names, Reznikov, Chernoff, Kolchek...other names he hadn't heard before … his name? Those went in the book. Meetings with people who were ex-CIA, from around his mother's time. Meetings with others, not as loyal to the United States as he was. All went in the book.

And he said nothing.

* * *

Hetty watched from her office as the majority of her staff left for the day. She knew that personally things had been strained between them, but he hadn't said anything to her, she had talked to Sam about it, about his concerns that Callen was cutting himself off from her. She had noticed that he had stopped coming over for a family meal, citing cases or a prior engagement with Joelle. Although now she wasn't sure if he had been telling the truth. Indeed, all her enquires stated that Callen and Joelle were still together, they had been seen having meals out together. Granted they had not been romantic liaisons like she would have expected, more coffee shops and cafes, but she still had hopes for her boy.

She had had to chastise him for his behavior when he had taken off. He should have trusted her to look into it. He shouldn't have run off. Her only recourse after his actions was to distance herself, he was getting to close to the secrets she wasn't ready to share yet. But now she wondered, just once in awhile, if she was doing the right thing.

She watched as he took out the notebook he had kept in his bag. She had wondered about it, as it's arrival had coincided with her departure from the inner sanctum that was his life. But, she let it be. He hadn't run off again. He hadn't left the team worrying about his fate. But she did miss his coming to her at the end of the day. Them quietly decompressing, over a cup of tea, or something stronger. Just relaxing, as mother and son.

For in her mind that is who he was to her. He was as much her child as he was Clara's. She had been thwarted in her oath to her friend to rescue them from Romania, she finally, was successful in tracking down her children, unfortunately too late for Amy. It was then that she had vowed to watch over and protect Clara's son with her life.

As any mother knows raising a child isn't easy. Raising one from afar and not stepping in for his own safety, was nigh on impossible. But, she had managed it. Controlling here, directing there...a word in the right ear when needed. All to keep her boy safe from his family's enemies.

In running like he had after Russia he had proved her right. She had thought that now as a man, he could be trusted with a bit more of the truth. So she had told him about his father. Directed him to the plot where his mortal remains were lying at rest.

Ok, so it was a partial truth, he had family out there. But those following the son while looking for the father, needed to see real grief. Those watching that day in the cemetery saw that. Constantine/Nikita, to all who needed to know, was dead. Hopefully one day she would be able to reunite both men and the younger, her boy, would understand her reasons for keeping them apart and she really hoped that the older man, her friend would understand why she had told him, his children were dead.

She watched him now as he sat at his desk, writing in that notebook of his. She was intrigued by it, but knew he valued his privacy enough not to ask about it, yet. She wished she had taken another tact with him, that he would open up like he used to do with her in the evenings. She had hoped that by Christmas things would be as close to normal, as they were ever going to get between the two of them. But he had not come to her.

* * *

He stood up and closed the notebook, placing it in his bag and switching off the lamp on his desk.

He looked towards her desk and she busied herself in her own paperwork.

But her glance could not help noting the look of sadness on his face as he got up to leave.

"Mr. Callen." She called as he started to walk away.

He turned, stiffening slightly as he did so.

"Yes, Hetty?"

"I wondered if I would be seeing you over the festive period."

He wavered slightly for a moment, "I don't see why? Unless you've arranged for the team to be there."

"No...I." She sighed, "I have hoped that we could put the last few months behind us."

"Have I done anything wrong?" Callen asked his voice containing more than a hint of worry.

Hetty opened her mouth for a moment but said nothing.

"I have acted to the best of my ability as an agent, I have worked tirelessly for the team. Why would you want to see me over the vacation?" He asked.

Hetty sighed, "It is Christmas, Mr. Callen. A time when family gets together."

"I have no family." Callen said picking his up bag. "Thank you for reminding me of that fact."

He started to walk away.

"Mr. Callen." Hetty sounded pained and tired. "Please, a moment."

She looked sad, and he felt bad for her, but she had done this, and he wasn't stupid enough to let her in again.

"Hetty, you made it perfectly clear where our relationship stands." Callen said coldly. "I will never question your judgement again, but…"

"I was wrong." Hetty said. "You were right, I overreacted. It was, in your words a 'bitch' move."

Callen sighed inwardly, he had needed to have this conversation months ago, not now.

"It was, but you made it...And like your other 'mistakes' I have to live with the consequences."

It was a low blow. He knew it, so did she.

"Yes, Mr. Callen, you do. I was working for the greater good."

"Do you really think that cuts it anymore, Hetty." He sighed sadly.

"Probably not. But please, this once. Listen."

She motioned for him to sit in his chair.

For a moment he resisted leaning on the supporting pillar to her office, then he sighed and took the proffered chair.

"A long time ago I promised that I would keep you safe. To the best of my ability, and despite, at times your best efforts," she smiled wrily, "I have managed to keep my promise."

"I am a grown man, Hetty, I don't need to have you watch over me anymore." Callen snapped.

"Oh, Mr. Callen, if only you knew." She took a sip of her scotch and poured him a glass, which after a moment, he finally took.

"Tell me." He pushed.

"You know about your mother's family feud with the Comescu's and about your father's dealings in Russia. He worked hard trying to smuggle people out of Russia at the height of the cold war. Both of them had enemies and when your parents were not targets, they switched their target to you."

"They didn't get me." Callen smirked.

"Once or twice, they did." Hetty's voice dropped, as Callen allowed the horror to sink in.

"Some of the bad placements, they were…"

"Enemies of your parents; Yes. This is why you were found and moved within hours, or days."

"You…?" Callen's throat constricted on what he wanted to say. As usual Hetty knew what he was going to say.

"I could not have taken you in then. I did not know who all your enemies were, I needed to keep you moving, to keep you safe."

Callen took a sip of the scotch, "Thank you for that, Hetty."

"I do not regret a moment of what I have done over the years to protect you."

"I know, and I do appreciate it, but I have questions. I need to know the answers, and when you protected me, I didn't taser  _you_." he added with a hint of sarcasm.

"I had my reasons for that." Hetty said.

"Care to share?" Callen leaned back for a second, as Hetty put her glass down, clamming up on him again.

"I thought not." He put the unfinished drink down, and stood up.

* * *

"Sometimes I have to do things for the greater good."

"When you feel our relationship is worth the greater good, let me know." He picked up his bag. "Merry christmas," he said, the sarcasm more evident.

"Mr. Callen." Hetty stood to follow him.

"What! You gonna tell me why you chose to betray me, why you lied to the others. You gave me my laptop and the secure satellite uplink, you knew I wouldn't betray NCIS or you."

"No." She watched him for a moment. "I was going to tell you, I was sorry. I have kept secrets from you, you are right. But, from the moment I saw you, I have loved you like a mother."

For a moment Callen's heart clenched, "Yeah, I've had 'mothers' like that." He remembered the ones who told him they loved him, and then hurt him; she had promised never to be like that.

"Please, will you ever forgive me?" She asked. She had done what she had needed to do, but hadn't realized how much she had hurt him.

He turned, and smiled sadly.

"I forgave you the second I ran round that corner, after all you are 'my mother.'" He sighed. "It just hurt that you blamed me and didn't trust me."

"Sometimes I do what I have to, as distasteful as it is to me, but I never stopped caring about you."

"Sometimes I run." He replied honestly. It was ingrained in him and he couldn't help it.

"But you came back." She said softly.

"This is home." He admitted. "I ran to find Arkady, find answers, but I never, ever ran from you or the team."

Callen moved to sit back on the chair, taking another drink from his unfinished glass.

Hetty moved so she stood in front of him, and placed her hand over his.

"I will always be here for you."

Callen smiled, "I know...I'm...I'm sorry too, Mom."

Hetty smiled. "So Christmas, at home?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure, were will you be?"

For a moment she looked confused, as he watched her thinking, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"I don't understand?"

Callen smiled, "You live in different houses, they are just that houses.  _ **You**_  are my home."

He put the glass down and hugged her, she let a few tears fall. Things were still not perfect between them, but it would get better.

* * *

From his vantage point just inside the bullpen, Sam smiled, knowing he wouldn't have to worry about his partner this year, and thanking whatever deity that had listened, that Callen and Hetty were getting their Christmas Miracle.

 


End file.
